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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25714087">Disconnected</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Z1NC/pseuds/Z1NC'>Z1NC</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Umbrella Academy (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Canon Divergence, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, No beta I’m so sorry, Season 2 spoilers, Some eventual ships such as:, The focus of this fic is Five, Vanya/Sissy and Allison/Raymond</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:07:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,806</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25714087</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Z1NC/pseuds/Z1NC</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Trapped working under the power of the Handler, Five’s only solution to escape is to unravel the past and figure out what it means for his future.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Number Five | The Boy &amp; Lila Pitts, The Hargreeves Family</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>221</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. [The End of Something]</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I’m incredibly new to this fandom but I have big ideas? I don’t know. Enjoy.</p><p>(Sorry for any errors. No beta we die like men, etc.)</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <em>Title of this chapter is taken from the last episode of Season 2. All other chapter titles will not be from the show, except for the very last chapter.<em></em></em>
</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It takes too much time for Five’s liking to make sure his siblings are contacted and aware that they’re going to get out of here. He checks his watch, his eyebrows scrunching together at the time. They’ve got twenty minutes left. Plenty of time for everyone to get here. Okay. All he has to do is wait patiently as their one way home keeps getting farther and farther away. He knows it’s an entirely stupid concern, but he can’t help but fear that they won’t make it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>    Surprise, surprise. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>    They don’t make it. Five’s gut instinct is, as always, correct. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>    Well, he will admit that <em>some </em>of them at least showed up on time. </span>
  <span>Five had been pacing and pacing and </span>
  <em>
    <span>pacing </span>
  </em>
  <span>by the time the one-minute mark came. Only Luther and Klaus had arrived. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Where</span>
  </em>
  <span> was </span>
  <span>everyone else? Five had given them one simple task to follow and they couldn’t even do that. He had a right to be furious, did he not? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>    Luther is a frowny mess and Klaus is a plain mess, stumbling around on flat ground like someone else is controlling him. Five stares at him, long and calculating. He’d been drinking again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>    Klaus burps. “What’s going on, guys? . . . Are we going somewhere?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>    Five stares. Then he goes back to pacing, because what else is he supposed to do? “It was a simple task,” he mumbles angrily. “It was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>simple task. </span>
  </em>
  <span>All we had to do was </span>
  <em>
    <span>be </span>
  </em>
  <span>here. Didn’t have to fight a giant sea monster. No! An army of mutants? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nein!” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
  <em>
    <span>What? </span>
  </em>
  <span>He’s hysterical and he’s frustrated. He does </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything </span>
  </em>
  <span>and his siblings can’t follow </span>
  <em>
    <span>one task? </span>
  </em>
  <span>He doesn’t know why he even tries. It’s not like this was laid out for them on a silver platter. Not like everything could’ve been back to normal like </span>
  <em>
    <span>that. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>    “Could you just— moan a little softer? . . . My head is </span>
  <em>
    <span>killing </span>
  </em>
  <span>me.” Klaus is holding his head in his hands, now, rather than waving his arms around in strange motions. Five isn’t sure it’s much better than the stumbling. Klaus looks like he’s about to hurl all over the pavement, and Five would rather not be there to witness that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>    Except he does. Five <em>does </em>witness one of his adopted brothers puke up his insides onto an alleyway road. Whatever was left of Five’s restraint breaks. He walks over to Klaus purposefully and shoves him. Just slightly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>    “Listen to me, you useless puke-bag. We just blew our chance to save the world!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>    And there it is. In Klaus’s eyes is complete and utter defeat. That’s all Five can see as he’s shoved back, harder than what he thinks is warranted. That’s all he sees as he gets taken into the future. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>    Now, this could’ve been worse, right? The suitcase could’ve gotten completely destroyed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>    That doesn’t happen, but something worse </span>
  <em>
    <span>does. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Five is in the future, completely surrounded by people holding guns to him. They’re not the government, Five can tell right away. No, they’re part of the Commission. </span>
</p>
<p>    In Five’s direct vision stands probably his three least favorite people to ever exist— a man, a woman, and a younger woman. They’re side-by-side and are the only ones without weapons. Or, in the very least, their weapons are concealed. The man holding an opened black umbrella doesn’t move, while the older woman does. She smiles widely, unnervingly. The youngest of them steps forward and offers her hand. Her face is blank but her flickering gaze reveals that she’s impatient. Impatient for what? </p>
<p>
  <span>    “Hi,” Five says around clenched teeth, reaching for her hand to shake. He’s slow about it. “How </span>
  <em>
    <span>nice</span>
  </em>
  <span> to see you again.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>    She does nothing but tighten her grip on his hand, her nails digging into his skin. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Family is Almost Everything</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <em> Have no fear! If you were one of my earlier readers you noticed that I deleted two chapters of this work. Well . . . I decided I needed to redecorate. "Disconnected" is now only going to be told from Five's POV :)<em></em></em>
</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span> “Five,” Lila greets, not a bit pleasantly. It seems to bring her great displeasure to even grasp onto Five’s hand. He shares the sentiment, wiping his hand on his long shorts. If he’d known that Lila, the traitor, would be here, he’s not sure he would’ve been as adamant that he and his siblings get out of the sixties. It was clear that the Handler had planned this, in some way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    This was— well, it was not good. Five struggled to form words, let alone something proper to say. Everyone in the room was tense. Staring at the Handler, he could guess that she’d rather put a bullet in his head than allow him to keep the suitcase in his hand. Five drops it carefully, watching grimly as the members of The Commission lower their guns. There’s no way that he’s doing this with an audience. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span> “Hi,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> he repeats, this time with a stronger bite. Less patience. “I presume this was a setup all along?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Oh, yes,” The Handler says, pouting in a way that Five can not possibly see as pity. She’s so incredibly happy with herself. Five doesn’t know why he’s put up with her for so long. “Care to speak alone?” She takes a long look at Lila, full of an emotion that Five thinks is entirely devious. Well. It’s not his business. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Please,” he says flatly, not surprised when the twitch of his father’s mustache gets caught in time, when the glare sent his way from multiple people freezes completely. It’s now just him and The Handler. She approaches him like one would a stinking diaper. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>vile,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he starts, not trying very hard to contain his frustration. He paces, not able to resist doing so. “This little game is pretty inconvenient for me. I’m not sure what you do with your time. You have so </span>
  <em>
    <span>much of it. </span>
  </em>
  <span>There’s so many other timelines you could be messing with—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    He pauses in place and turns on his heel, staring The Handler down. “You already </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>messed with other timelines. That’s why you’re here.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    She stares knowingly at him. Why does she always know what Five is thinking? He sniffs, feeling unpleasant as The Handler takes a confident step closer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Oh, Number Five, this was all your fault too,” she coos, not at all empathetic. Five straightens, affronted, and decides that he’s not totally willing to deal with this. The Handler smiles, a sharpness to it that has Five wanting to go back in time. She is not scary, just unbearably frightening. The way she peels off the black silk glove from her right hand is uncomfortable. She snaps her fingers and time rights itself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Five’s father stares at him closely. It doesn’t take much for Five to figure out what he needs to do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “You want me to help you.” Doesn’t she always? There must be someone else she could force to do her dirty work. Five is a person with his own personal things to do. Such as going back in time, which does not seem like it’ll happen with all of these members of The Commision surrounding him. Watching him. Categorizing his every move. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    There’s definitely something Five is missing, but it’s impossible to place. He watches Lila’s eyes focus determinedly anywhere but The Handler. Is she guilty? What is she hiding? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “We are </span>
  <em>
    <span>all </span>
  </em>
  <span>here to help.” The Handler looks around at everyone, stopping carefully at Five’s father. With Five’s stare now back to him, all he does is twist the handle of the umbrella he has open over his head. The sky is bright, which is a complete juxtaposition to the way Five feels when The Handler grins.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Five concludes that he is not getting out of this anytime soon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    It is barely an hour later when Five seats himself at a long dining room table. A chandelier hands overhead. He didn’t think The Handler went for this kind of thing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Well, her job doesn’t pay </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>well. If anything, it’s a waste of effort, because even the health benefits are laughable. Five had only worked there because he was desperate for </span>
  <em>
    <span>something. </span>
  </em>
  <span>For some kind of human interaction. Dolores had been wonderful, but ultimately not what he was looking for. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    And then he had ended up back home, back home with his siblings. It hadn’t been the nicest thing, seeing as Ben was no longer around. Everyone had been disgustingly distant. Now Five is left to take care of all of them, because clearly they are completely incapable of being functioning human beings. What happened to them once he traveled to the future? Had they gotten back home safely, in a different timeline. Did they die of old age, stuck in time? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    It had not occurred to Five that he would already be fretting over his siblings so much. He did his best to distract himself from these nagging thoughts and focus on the task at hand: getting whatever this is over with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    At the table with Five is The Handler, Lila, and his father. He wants to roll his eyes. It’s almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>too </span>
  </em>
  <span>predictable that they’d all be here, eyes boring into him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    He folds his hands together and sets them resolutely on the table. “What is the purpose of this?” It must be better to get straight to the point. It’s better that Five knows what he’s going up against before he tries to deceive The Handler. He knows too well how spectacularly he failed last time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “To encourage unity,” she says, rather derisively. “Five, you have not been the easiest to work with lately. It’s discouraging,” she pouts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Five scoffs. Why does she think he’s being so difficult with her? Because he wants to? Five want to laugh, though nothing about this is comical. All this time, he’s been going along with what she says. It’s not his problem that she messed-up her plan. There is a nuclear apocalypse that he still, potentially, has to save his siblings from. That is a lot of work to do. In addition to that, he still doesn’t know what time he’s in. His time travel skills are not yet fully developed. He needs to figure out what went wrong with his equations. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    It takes a lot for Five to admit that he’s wrong, and he had been wrong. Now he’s in this mess. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “This is a matter of secrecy,” Five’s father says, in the corniest way possible. “Meaning you must keep it a secret from your siblings.” And Five doesn’t miss the tone of his voice, how he doesn’t seem to have any connection to what he just said. Something is very different about this timeline, because Reginald Hargreeves doesn’t care about his own children. Unless, in this time, none of them are actually his children. Five’s eyes squint, focusing on every move his ‘father’ makes. This man has no connection to him besides when they’d sat at a table together, back in the sixties. He probably doesn’t think very highly of Five </span>
  <em>
    <span>or </span>
  </em>
  <span>of his siblings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “I will,” Five assures. He smiles quickly, a needless and unsuccessful act of niceness. His face feels tight as he does it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Perfect,” The Handler grins, clapping her hands together once. Five doubts that she is truly this excited. “Now, let’s get started. I need you, Five, and dear Lila to . . . let’s say </span>
  <em>
    <span>eliminate </span>
  </em>
  <span>some potential threats back in time.” Following that statement, Five is sure he hears Lila mumble something under her breath, a quiet complaint of </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Mom.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>    Now, that’s new. That’s very new. He catalogues Lila’s expression, noting the tenseness in her shoulders. It appears that she likes her mother just about as much as Five does.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Three, Two, One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Two months after he’d come back to the future, Five could officially say he did not enjoy this life. The Handler had long ago given up on appealing to Five, instead opting to threaten him. Five did not have an option, in this case, when it came to killing people for The Handler. It wasn’t something he was proud of, exactly. It was just not something he could prevent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Currently, blood that didn’t belong to him was dripping down his hands to his wrists, soaking the sleeves of his blazer. He didn’t doubt that there was some on his face. Five had been given a gun, though he hadn’t been able to use it. The man he was sent to kill had training in some form of martial arts. Five had known that, but he had doubted the man’s skills because he wasn’t very fit. Five had resorted to using a wooden spoon from the kitchen. Anyway, that was over with now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    A sound came from behind him, startling him, his leg kicking out in a calculated move. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Lila had him on the ground in a time that he’d refuse to give. Too short. Too fast. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Chill out, buddy,” she says, her voice almost hysterical. There was no blood on her face, but there was blood everywhere else. She left deep red footprints as she got up and took a few steps away from Five. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Five stands, wiping his clothes as if it will do anything. It’s better than looking Lila in the eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Nice place,” Lila says, words drifting in a way that means she’s probably figuring out what she should steal. Most of the nearby possessions are splattered in blood. Five stares, judging, as Lila picks up an old porcelain plate. It’s covered in bright pink flowers, the color soft. Five doesn’t know what it is. Mom probably would know. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “I snuck the file, you know,” Lila spoke softly. Five wasn’t buying this act. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “I didn’t know. I don’t care.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    He did care, though, because he knew what that file said. He’d read it yesterday. It wasn’t of his authority to take that file. It read </span>
  <em>
    <span>Case 890, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and it made Five feel something. It had to do with his siblings. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Now, there was no way he’d ever be over the fact that his siblings had missed their chance to return to the future. But he did miss them. They were idiots. Luther was a sad sack of a man, always pining over Allison. Diego was dumb enough to jump into bed with Lila. How he could think a woman really wanted him, Five would never know. Allison was okay, but she was too hesitant to use her powers. She was one of the forty-three and she was wasting it by caring. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Imagine that. Caring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Klaus, as Five had stated in the (near) past, was a useless puke-bag. There was potential in Klaus as there was in all of them. But could they do what Five was doing right now? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    And Vanya. Five wished he knew what her deal was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Five . . . these people didn’t do anything. We should be out to get the serial killers of the world, right? He was just some random depressed rich guy. Why did we kill him?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Five wiped his hands on his shorts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “You didn’t kill him,” he spoke. “And this wasn’t my decision.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    He would not defend himself. Somehow, time had gotten to this point. Five would make it stop. But, for now, all he could do was listen. He didn’t like listening. He wasn’t a listener. He wasn’t a leader either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    What was he? </span>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>“You’re a monster.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Those words were spoken by his first kill under The Handler’s power. He had been assigned to kill a businessman, in 1982, that had been committing fraud for a long time. This wasn’t the worst crime out there, of course, but if he lived another day a potential loophole would form in the timeline and it would be even more work to take care of, according to The Handler. Five had not shared this sentiment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    He’d been assigned to kill the man in his own home. Five felt some form of guilt when he had the businessman beneath him. The only saving grace of the situation was that the man did not beg for mercy. Instead, he cursed Five until his last breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Five had stolen some jewelry from the man’s home, most likely belonging to his wife, to make the whole event look like a petty robbery. Some time later, when Five was residing in 2014, he researched the wife and found that she had remarried five years after the death of her first husband and had two children. At least she was happy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Lila had not joined him on this first kill, and for that Five was thankful. At that point in time he still hadn’t quite grasped what she thought of him. Did Lila view Five as a monster as well? An enemy? Or simply a little boy in her way? Depending on the answer, Five would have to approach her very differently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Five and Lila exit the man’s house quietly. It was a moment later that time froze around them. The Handler walks prissily from behind one of the man’s sports cars. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Great,” she tells them, and leaves it at that. She’s not one for praise, it seems. Five spares a glance at Lila, wondering, not for the first time, how messed up she must be. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    It’s not rude. Five is actually sympathetic. He can’t imagine being raised by someone that’s undoubtedly worse than his father. The Handler is everything bad shaped into a woman that likes to make statements with her clothes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    There is also the fact that she was attracted to him. Now, “was” is used very intentionally. That was back then. Five understands that he’s in a child’s body now. He’s not going to proposition anyone, let alone his worst enemy, when he looks like this. He misses Dolores. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    The Handler is now just a selfish woman, if that wasn’t all she had been before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Lila and Five are transported to The Commission, where they each sit down in desks across the room from each other. The Handler is nowhere near them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Check,” Lila says, clicking her tongue afterwards. Five assumes that she had just checked-off another name on their list of people to kill. He didn’t care to know what number they were on, or how many more they had left. What was The Handler’s angle? Five felt that he wasn’t thinking about this enough, the fact that he’d been given this work immediately. Without question. What was he supposed to get out of this? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Five couldn’t believe he hadn’t wondered that until two months into said work. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “I need some fresh air,” Five says, shooting a quick, snake-like smile towards Lila. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he wants to tell her, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I will not ask you to join me. </span>
  </em>
  <span>They’re not friends. Five doesn’t have friends. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    And so Five takes a walk around the building. No, of course he’s not going outside. The year is outdated and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>would</span>
  </em>
  <span> like to visit the parks, but he would also rather not deal with truly fresh air of the past. His lungs weren’t used to it. Not a single person paid mind to him, and he wondered how insignificant he was. It just didn’t make sense that he was here. There had to be another reason.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    How could he have been so stupid? He’d been criticizing his siblings mentally ever since he’d been shoved into the future. He hadn’t even gone about this the appropriate way. Five had been too caught-up in pitying himself to look at the bigger picture. There was a reason The Handler was keeping him here. He imagined that she’d much rather see him dead. So, why?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Five was shuffling through some files when the lights turned red. Not a moment later, alarms sounded from every direction. Five had good reason to believe that this had to do with him. He set the files down and teleported out of the room, almost immediately trampled by people running around. They were in a panic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    There were gunshots somewhere. People fled away from the hallway to Five’s left. He turned down that hallway and ran towards the noise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    To his surprise, there was Diego, not holding a gun but directing the bullets being shot at him to agents holding guns. They were in a large room full of tables and knocked-over chairs. This was the second cafeteria in the building. Food was splattered on the ground. Chili, Five noted, and possibly some cinnamon rolls. That would be a pain to clean up along with the blood, of course, which didn’t rain down but it was a close thing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Diego hadn’t seen Five yet, and Five wished he could process what was happening, or rather </span>
  <em>
    <span>understand </span>
  </em>
  <span>it. Where had Diego come from, and why was he here? Was this to help Five (which is not needed, by the way) or was this something else? Something Five couldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>understand. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It was frustrating, and in the few seconds he had been standing there, Five made a decision. He teleported beside Diego. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “You must have a plan,” He says, grabbing a man’s gun and shooting the people beginning to surround him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Three, two, one, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Five counts off mentally, throwing the gun aside once he deems there are few enough people. He prefers close combat, so that’s what he’s going to do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Finally looking over at him, Diego sneers and punches Five. Before he can punch Five again, Five flees, teleporting behind Diego. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “This is great,” Five says, drawing out the words sarcastically, holding Diego in a chokehold. At least Diego isn’t mad enough, for whatever reason, to make the bullets flying at him enter Five’s skull. That wouldn’t be very appreciated. Not at all. “What’s your problem? You didn’t come here to shoot some people and yell at me, did you? You know The Handler does plenty of that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    This is the first time Five has seen someone of his family and, instead of laughing at his faulty joke, Diego rams the back of his head into Five’s nose and retreats. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “I didn’t come here for </span>
  <em>
    <span>you,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Diego says. He looks like he wants to spit on Five and ban him from the planet. Seriously, what did Five do? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diego directs a couple more bullets away from them and grabs a briefcase, the only briefcase left actually, and is gone in a flurry of blue light. Five grumbles, brushing his clothes off. Not that it does much, considering there’s a sizable portion of him covered in blood. It smells coppery, a strong scent in Five’s nose. Diego had destroyed all of the briefcases with an exception for one and had taken the only one left. Why would he bother coming to one of the most secretive places to ever exist and only accomplish that?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Unless he hadn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>come </span>
  </em>
  <span>here at all, and instead he had been brought here. Diego had been escaping in front of Five’s eyes and didn’t even attempt to include him. What was Diego thinking? What did Five do to make Diego distrust him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Sighing, Five picks up a fallen chair and drags it to a table. He sits down, contemplating. The future does not seem bright. </span>
</p>
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